A New Life
by skyefairie
Summary: Frodo meets a strange girl at Sam's wedding. Merry, Pippin, Sam and Ayla all seem to share a scret he knows nothing about. But he is inexorably drawn to Ayla. Romance blooms. Rated T for safety
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The sun was bright. It was a year since Frodo's return from his fateful journey, and it was Sam's wedding. Frodo watched with tears sparking in his blue eyes, as Sam kissed Rosie. He cheered. Rosie turned and threw her bouquet into the crowd. To the utmost astonishment of all the hobbits present, Pippin caught it. Frodo saw Diamond's, who stood beside him, disgruntled look and grinned.

Turning, he caught sight of a young hobbit girl standing a few paces away, beside a family of Took's. She was grinning happily and clapping hard. She wore a dark green dress and her dark blond, gentle curls cascaded over her shoulders. The afternoon sun sank into her hair and lit up her face, glinting in her grey-blue eyes.

Frodo was struck by how pretty she was. She didn't look completely hobbit. She was the right stature, but she was slender and her dress clung to her shapely curves. Her face was longer and more oval than a hobbit's too. Frodo had never been much attracted to the Hobbiton girls. In his tweens, he had shared a kiss or two with a young Brandybuck or Bolger after a couple of ales, but he had never had any sort of relationship.

He turned back to Rosie and Sam, as they descended from the podium, hand in hand. Frodo had never seen Sam look happier than he did now. The crowd parted to let the couple through, and then followed them to the _Green Dragon_, where the festivities were to take place.

Frodo followed slowly, deep in his thoughts. As he entered the inn, a band struck up a lively tune and Rosie and Sam took the floor. The hobbits instantly tucked into the sumptuous arrangement of food laid out. Frodo sat down at one of the tables and watched, a little wistfully, the happy couples that took to the floor and twirl in each other's arms.

A mug was pressed into his hands. 'Frodo!' cried Merry, sitting down beside him. 'Why aren't you joining in? There are barrels of ale and tables of food!'

Frodo took a deep draught of the ale and thanked his friend. 'I was deep in my thoughts,' he shrugged. The band trundled to a halt and there was much applause and calling for another tune. Frodo nudged Merry and jerked his head towards a pretty Bolger on the other side of the room.

'There's Estella,' he said, grinning. 'Ask her for a dance.'

Merry raised his eyebrows. 'Trying to get rid of me?' he asked standing and beginning to move toward Estella. 'You should get yourself a girlfriend, mate.'

Frodo laughed and stood, pushing through the throng to the table. He snatched up a roll and a hunk of cheese and placed them in a little woven basket, courtesy of a few of Rosie's friends. He added to the plate, a pastry and something that looked curiously like _lembas_. He was turning away when he caught sight of the girl again. She was sparsely filling her plate_. _Frodo liked the way her not-so-curly hair fell across her face.

He turned away from her quickly and found an empty table. He occupied himself with eating and watching the happy dancers. The bread had the same texture of _lembas_ but quite a different taste. All the same, he liked it. He munched quietly and watched Pippin spinning Diamond in rapid circles. Soft footsteps sounded behind him and he turned to see the dark blond hobbit, standing awkwardly.

'Do you mind if I sit here?' she asked shyly. 'All the other tables are full.'

Frodo nodded, quickly swallowing a mouthful of cheese. She smiled and sat. Frodo could help but notice the grace with which she moved; an uncommon thing among hobbits. She reminded him somewhat of an elf.

She held out her hand to him across the scrubbed, wooden table. 'I'm Ayla.'

He took it. 'Frodo... Frodo Baggins.'

'Yeah... I know...' She smiled.

She bit into a roll and chewed slowly, her eyes darting around the room, before coming to rest of Frodo once more. She tugged at a one of her sleeves.

At last Frodo spoke. 'So where are you from?' he asked. 'I haven't seen you around here before.'

She shrugged. 'It's a long story. 'I'm staying with Ma Took for a couple of weeks.'

Frodo nodded. Over Ayla's shoulder, he could see Merry giving him thumbs up.

Frodo noticed that Ayla seemed to be studying him. Carefully, her eyes lingered over his pale, strangely elven features and bright blue eyes. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. She dropped her gaze and stared, embarrassed, at her plate.

'I... uh... you live in Bag End, don't you?' she asked finally.

He nodded.

'Bilbo lived there didn't he? Bilbo Baggins, who adopted you?'

He frowned in surprise. 'How do you know that?'

She jolted. 'One of Ma Took's lads told me... I forget who.'

They lapsed into silence. Frodo took a gulp of ale. After a while, Ayla ventured, 'I've heard so much about Bag End. I've always wanted to see it. Not... not because of the rumours of treasure stuffing its halls, but because of it's... sort of...' She waved her hands about vaguely.

Frodo nodded. 'Well, why don't you come over for tea some time?' he asked, smiling.

She broke into a broad smile. 'Really? Thank you! Thank you so much! When?'

Frodo grinned. 'The day after tomorrow would be good. I'm rather busy tomorrow I'm afraid. Come at around three.'

She nodded. 'Thank you.'

Throughout the following quarter of an hour, they discussed Hobbiton, the Shire, Sam and Rosie, but she always seemed to steer clear of the topics of her heritage and residence. Frodo let it be, but reminded himself to ask her about on Thursday.

There was loud cheering and the pair looked up to see a large cake being born upon a silver platter. It was a chocolate cake, smothered in thick brown icing and decorated with tangling strands of vine and flower. It was set at a separate table to the food one. Sam and Rosie stood beside it, an elegant silver knife in their hands.

'Come on.' Frodo rose and made his way to stand near the couple. Ayla followed him. There were several songs of good wishes and then the knife sunk into the cake. The first slice, to Frodo's intense surprise was offered to him. He took with a smile, thanking Sam, his greatest friend, and kissing Rosie lightly on the cheek. Both grinned at him. The next were given to Merry and Pippin, then immediate family, then friends and so on.

The cake was rich and fudgy. Frodo savoured the taste and he ate it. Ayla rejoined him at the table and they struck up their conversation once more, complimenting the cake and the bride and groom. After a while Merry and Pippin joined them.

'Hello Ayla,' said Pippin, swinging down beside her. Merry echoed him.

Frodo looked at them in surprise. 'You know one another?'

Pippin grinned. 'Of course! She's staying at my mother's house, and unfortunately I don't have a hole of my own.'

Frodo nodded.

'So how are you two getting along?' queried Merry. 'Have you told him yet?' he added, turning to Ayla.

She shook her head. Frodo looked confused.

'Told me what?'

'Oh nothing,' said Pippin. 'Have you invited her over yet?'

Frodo frowned. 'Peregrin Took, what is going on?'

'Nothing, as he said,' put in Merry, just concealing a grin. Ayla looked uncomfortable. She licked a piece of icing from her finger and tugged at her hair. Merry put an arm around her.

Frodo opened his mouth to say something, but was then cut across by an ecstatic Sam, who swung down beside Frodo, grinning from ear to ear. 'What do you know Mr. Frodo? I'm married! And to Rosie too!'

Frodo smiled at him. 'I know Sam... I couldn't be happier for you.'

Sam caught sight the dark blond hobbit sitting among them. 'Hello Ayla!' he said cheerily.

Frodo's gaze snapped around to him. 'You know her too?' he cried.

'Of course I do, Mr. Frodo... else why would she be at my wedding?' Sam said. Luckily Frodo did not catch the sly note in his voice, nor the glances he shared with Merry and Pippin.

Frodo sighed. 'You all seem to share in a secret I know nothing about.'

'Oh dear... he guessed!' said Pippin laughingly. Ayla raised an eyebrow, smiling broadly, Merry grinned and Sam laughed outright.

'We'll tell you soon, Mr. Frodo... trust me,' Sam said, and stood to find Rosie.

Pippin jumped up and went in search of Diamond and Merry offered Ayla a dance.

'I've been teaching her, you see,' he said to Frodo as they left the table. 'Got to keep her fit,' he added teasingly.

Ayla laughed and swung her hip into Merry's making him stumble. Frodo watched as he took her carefully in his arms and began to dance to the lively tune struck up by the band. Merry said something to her and she laughed, glancing briefly his way. Their eyes caught and held for a split second, before it was broken by another vigorous twirl.

The dance lasted several minutes. Frodo's eyes followed Ayla and Merry's every move. He didn't realize the look of envy that passed across his face. Sam saw it, and grinned, as did Pippin.

They returned to the table, flushed and eyes sparkling. Merry went in search of ale and Ayla sat down. Panting, and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

'Dancing's such fun,' she said, flapping her hand to cool herself. 'I never realized that until I came here.'

Frodo laughed. Merry returned with two mugs of ale. To Frodo's everlasting surprise, Ayla grabbed one and took a deep gulp. Merry grinned at Frodo's shocked face.

'What?' she asked, reappearing from over the rim of her now half-full mug. 'You think that girls can't drink?'

Frodo's eyebrows shot up and he grinned. Grabbing his own still full mug, he raised it to his lips and gulping back a hearty amount. Ayla burst into a fit of laughter, and downed the rest of hers a couple more sips.

To Frodo and Merry's surprise, the ale seemed to have little effect on her. Besides making her a lot jollier and less shy than before. The sky was darkening outside.

Both Frodo and Ayla remembered the evening with great clarity.

As the Shire fell into night, the crowd in the _Dragon_ became merrier. Another two barrels of ale were broken out; more food was laid on the table. The band played ever more lively tunes. At one point Pippin and Merry clambered onto a table and began singing loudly. Ayla, recalling the song, shouted happily along, and Frodo was surprised at how well she knew the song.

_You can search far and wide_

_You can drink the whole town dry,_

_But you'll never find a beer so brown,_

_But you'll never find a beer so brown,_

_But you'll never find a beer so brown_

_Than the one we drink in our hometown!_

_You can drink your fancy ales,_

_You can drink 'em by the flagon_

_But the only brew for the brave and true..._

_Comes from the _Green Dragon_! _

At one point in the evening, Ayla swung to the table at which Frodo sat and pulled him to his feet. 'Come and dance!' she cried. She pulled him onto the dance floor and placed his hands about her waist. The fiddlers struck up a quickening tune. Frodo remembered the gentle curves of her waist beneath his hands. He remembered her soft hair bouncing on her shoulders. He remembered her breathless laugh and wide smile.

And she remembered the brightness of his eyes, and the way they watched her as she danced. She remembered the warmth of his hands through her dress. And his dark curls sweeping across his forehead. And she remembered his lips on her hand as he wished her goodnight and the cool night air as she walked, arm in arm with Pippin, down the lane.

And she remembered wishing Pippin goodnight and the soft sheets as she slipped between them. And the last thing she thought of before she dropped off to sleep was the fair face of Frodo, and the depth of his shining, beautiful eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. Thank you so much for the two lovely reviews I received! I really appreciate it! Please do the same for this chapter! Here it is! Sorry It's a little short. I will update again soon!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters but Ayla, and the whole of Middle Earth belongs to the great J.R.R. Tolkien!**

**Chapter 2**

The following day Frodo spent strolling through a nearby forest. He relished the soft calling of birds, the softness of the grass beneath his feet and the smell of apple blossom. His thoughts often strayed to the night before – and too often to that shapely, elvin hobbit, with shining blue eyes and dark blond hair bouncing upon her shoulders. Where she came from was a mystery to him. He was positive that he had never met her before, but Sam, Merry and Pippin had greeted her like an old friend and she seemed as comfortable among them as among family.

He settled himself at the bole of a tall tree and pulled a long wooden pipe from his belt. A small leather pouch of tobacco and a flint emerged from within his waistcoat. He stuffed a pinch of leaf into the bowl of the pipe and lit it with a few sparks – courtesy of the flint.

The fragrant smoke puffed from his mouth and floated up, above the trees, before being torn apart by the gentle breeze. From within his waistcoat Frodo now drew a slim volume, the story of Beren and Luthìan, translated by Bilbo himself. He recalled reading it last, beneath a tree not far from where he now sat, chewing on a blade of grass and awaiting Gandalf's arrival, the day ere Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday.

Ayla stepped gently upon the thick bed of soft grass and the stray pine needles which carpeted the forest. She moved carefully, her pale blue dress swishing about her ankles. She raised her head and sniffed the air. She caught the scent of pine needles and delicate apple blossom, and also the faint smell of burning pipe weed.

She continued on through the idyllic wood. Stopping to admire a pale yellow flower, she heard the soft rustle of turning pages and now a strong scent of leaf. She rose, slowly, and peered between two trees. There sat a hobbit. His head, dark brown and curly, was bent over something on his lap. Puffs of fragrant smoke issued from his lips.

She remained behind her tree, happy to leave the hobbit in his peace. A shaft of sunlight slanted through the trees and fell upon his hair. Suddenly he raised his head, and Ayla saw who it was. Her sharp intake of breath was loud in the stillness of the wood.

Frodo sat at the bole of the tree, exactly as she had first seen him... reading a book. She withdrew enough to ensure that she was out of sight, but did not take her eyes from him.

Frodo raised his head. He frowned, hearing what sounded like a small gasp, and turned to his left. Two large trees stood a few meters away. He shook his head... it was probably just an animal. He tapped his pipe out against a stone and rubbed the hot ashes into the cool soil. Then he tucked it back into his belt and reopened his book.

Ayla took a step back as he looked up, hoping against hope that he did not see her. As much as she had enjoyed his company the previous night, she did not think he would take lightly to the fact that she was spying on him in the middle of the woods. She need not have feared, though. After a moment or two he looked away, shaking his head slightly.

Ayla took the opportunity to sneak away again and resume her stroll.

Frodo remained in the forest for most of the day. Until his hunger drew him from the idyllic spot and pulled him home, where potatoes were waiting to be boiled and a fresh loaf was waiting to be sliced. He lit a cooking fire and built it to a small blaze. Then he half filled a pot with water and plopped a few potatoes into it, before hanging it on an iron hook above the grate.

To abate his growling stomach for the present, Frodo sliced several thick slices of bread and spread them lavishly with butter. He tossed a couple tea leaves into a mug and hooked a full kettle on another, smaller hook, beside the potatoes.

As he chewed, his thoughts once again strayed to Ayla. She was coming for tea the following day. He made a mental note to prepare something particularly nice. Strawberries and cream could be good; they were in season. Bread and butter as usual... and tea. He poured steaming water into his mug and set it aside to draw.

The potatoes were soft. Frodo drained the water and forked a few onto his plate. He cut a few knobs of fresh butter, pushing them between the cut slices of potato. Coarse salt, sprinkled generously, and cheese cut roughly and added to the platter.

The Shire was quiet that evening. Frodo slipped into bed early, but as he lay there, his cheek pressed against the cool linen of his pillow, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. He breathed raggedly and pressed a hand to his shoulder. It would never really heal.

Ayla ate her dinner early that evening. It was a hot vegetable stew and thickly sliced bread and butter. She bid the family goodnight and retired to her bedroom. It wasn't large. A double, plush bed stood in the center of the room. A small chest of drawers and a bedside table was all the furniture there was. She sat on the edge of her bed and slid a hand beneath her pillows. It returned with a book and pair of pyjamas.

It was a thick book. Paper-back and green; the cover had five back riders galloping across it and in bold letters above was the words _The Lord of the Rings_. She stroked the cover and leafed through the familiar pages. The names Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin jumped out at her.

Leaning back into her pillows she sighed. She still was struggling to come to terms with the fact that she was, in fact, between these pages herself. It was one of the most wild, and crazy notions – but it was completely true.

She had broken the news of her true background to Merry, Pippin and Sam shortly after she had arrived in Middle-Earth. Their initial shock at her true background was quickly over-ridden by their curiosity for the world she came from. They had now convinced her to break the news to Frodo the following day – and she had to admit, she was not particularly looking forward to. It. Telling the others that she was a stranger from another land where a strange man had documented their entire journey to Mordor and back was not exactly the easiest thing to do.

**A/N. Not one of my best chapters, if I say so myself, but it'll improve as the story unfolds!**


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